


Catch and Release

by Nikki6



Category: Justified
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:42:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikki6/pseuds/Nikki6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raylan Givens goes on a little fishing trip with Boyd  and Tim. No fish gets caught, but plenty of bourbon, beer, and camaraderie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catch and Release

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thornfield_girl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thornfield_girl/gifts).



In hindsight, a fishing trip had seemed like a good idea. Heading out after his shift on Friday for a weekend at the old fishing cabin, a couple bottles of bourbon, couple 24' s of beer, and a cooler full of burgers and steak. It had all the makings of a nice relaxing weekend.

It had been Boyd's idea. He knew that Raylan loved fishing, and seldom got the chance to do it, so he had brought it up over a cold one on the Monday before.

"Remember that ole' fishing cabin by Boggs Fork? I figure we go there, hunker down for the weekend, catch us some big bass and get a little drunk."

Raylan had considered it, he had a pile of paperwork at work, and a bunch of crap he could do out at Arlo's place. He took another swallow of his beer.

"What the hell." he finally said. 

"Really?" Boyd seemed a bit shocked.

"You change your mind in the last 30 seconds?" Raylan asked.

"No, sir. Just surprised is all. I've asked you to go plenty of times, you're usually 'too busy'." Boyd held up his hands innocently.

"I need a break."

Art seemed to agree with him

“You’re going fishing? Good. Take Gutterson with you.” Art stated firmly.

“You think I need a sharpshooter to fish? Boss, I may be rusty but I think I can still land a bass without a gun.” Raylan stated.

“No, as happy as I am you’re finally taking a break and getting some RnR, I would like you to see that Tim gets some too. He’s wound way too tight, and I think fishing with a couple good ole boys like you and Boyd might be just what he needs. Get drunk and tell tall tales, fry fish and eat cornbread.”

“Fine.” Raylan just wanted to get out of there before Art requested they sing songs around the campfire too. He’d worry about the repercussions of taking both men fishing later.

He went out and paused by Tim’s desk. The younger man was studying a file and drinking a coffee.

“Any plans this weekend?” Raylan asked him.

“Reading some files, catching up on paperwork. I’m sure it will be a wonderfully exciting weekend. Care to join me?” Tim didn’t even look up.

“No, but leave that shit and come join me.”

“Where and doing what?” Tim looked up, his gaze skeptical.

“Fishing with me and Boyd.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I am. Go get your gear. I’ll pick you up in an hour and a half.”

“What if I don’t want to go?”

“You’d rather sit and do paperwork? Really?”

“It needs to be done.”

“Not this weekend it doesn’t. Go fishing, that’s an order.” Art spoke from the door of his office.

Tim looked at Art’s face, then back at Raylan. “I guess I’ll go get packed.”

 

Boyd was surprised to see Tim in the car.

“You need a babysitter to fish?” he drawled getting in.

“Art would like us both to get some time away.” Raylan answered. 

“What’s the matter, Crowder? Afraid of a little competition?” Tim asked quietly.

“Play nice, kids.” Raylan chided lightly. “We’re not even out of the city yet. Don’t make me turn around and take us all home.”

In truth, he was thinking this was probably the oddest fishing trip he’d ever gone on. Boyd and Tim were polar opposites as people and while Boyd had done plenty of stupid shit in his life that Raylan disapproved of, they were still alike in a lot of ways. Ways Tim often referred to as Raylan’s ‘backwoods dysfunctional habits’.

They managed to make it to the cabin, and unpacked some food and a lot of alcohol. Then they lit a fire in the fireplace to warm it up before doing the same outside. It was too late to fish tonight, but sitting outside around a fire was a magical thing, no matter how old you are. 

They sat and passed around a bottle of bourbon, taking shots while they drank beer and ate the hotdogs they’d roasted and just enjoyed the peace and quiet.

Of course, Boyd could never stay quiet long.

“So you served, Raylan tells me. Where?”

“Afghanistan.”

“Marines?”

“Rangers.”

Boyd raised an eyebrow. “Well, that explains your excellent aim. I also served, though not in anything as illustrious as the Rangers. Desert Storm.”

“I know. I’ve read your file.” Tim replied. 

“We’re brothers in arms.”

Tim laughed. He took a swig of the bottle and looked across the fire at Boyd. “You think just because we both served in the Army we should be swapping spit and telling war stories? If we both got called back right now and you walked in front of me I would ‘friendly fuck’ you right out of this world.”

“That’s not very brotherly.” Boyd said with that smile.

Tim wasn’t smiling anymore. “You’re a murderer, thief and a half dozen other things I hate, but for some reason, Raylan has an affection for you, so you’re still alive. That’s the only reason.” 

He looked at Raylan. “I’m going to bed. See you in the morning.”

“5 am.” Boyd called after him. “Don’t sleep in. Sweet dreams.”

“Boyd, are you crazy or just plain stupid?” Raylan shook his head. “Don’t push him. You know he hates your guts. Just let him try and have a good time.”

“I’m just havin’ some fun with him. I can’t help it that he has no discernible sense of humor.” Boyd replied, taking a drink from the bottle.

“Remember when we were boys, and Jock Banning hated both of us. I avoided the son of bitch, kept to myself and he let me fly under his radar. You kept making comments in class and out in the playground and next thing he’s chasing you down after school and kicking the shit out of you.”

“Until you showed up and hit him with that branch. Knocked him out cold. I thought you’d killed him! And then you were just trying to get me up and home.” Boyd said softly, his eyes staring into the fire, remembering.

“My point is that your damn mouth gets you into trouble, it always has. It’s always running and you just let it. Maybe you should learn from your mistakes once in a while.” 

Boyd just smiled. “My knight in shining armor.”

“I’m going to bed.” Raylan sighed in exasperation. Boyd never learned. That was just who he was.

 

Boyd sat by the fire, thinking. He knew Raylan was thinking of after he’d gotten Boyd back to his Aunt Helen’s so she could take care of him, wash the blood off and give him some sweet tea and ice for his face. He hadn’t taken him home, knowing that he’d just get beat again for fighting and losing. Raylan sat there, by the bed, while Boyd had dozed in and out, lulled by the clean sheets and lavender smell of them. He woke when it was dark and started, suddenly terrified, not knowing where he was. Then he felt Raylan’s hand on his. “I’m right here.”

And Boyd had felt the terror drift away. Raylan was there, he would protect him. Always.

“You’re my best friend.” Boyd murmured sleepily.

“You’re delirious.” Raylan drawled. “I’m your only friend, you idiot. Now go to sleep.”

And then he chuckled and Boyd fell back to sleep, a smile on his face.

 

Now Boyd watched the fire and sighed. Raylan was so tightly wound these days. Back then, he’d been as intense, but there had been fun in him too. Very little of that fun seemed to exist now. 

He had another drink and then went inside. He was quiet, not wanting to get shot by a startled Ranger or his best friend. He turned the corner and stopped in the shadows. Tim was standing there, his back to him, staring into Raylan’s room. 

Raylan was asleep, a sheet around the bottom half of his obviously naked form. His arms were thrown behind his head, and he snored quietly. And Tim was just staring at him.

Boyd didn’t much like that.

“Lose something?”

Tim whirled and his eyes flashed. “Just checking…”

“Oh, I can see what you’re checking.” Boyd replied.

“You have a twisted, sick mind, Crowder.”

He tried to push past Boyd, only to be pushed back.

“You holding a torch for him, boy?” Boyd asked bluntly. “You got an itch you can’t scratch?”

“Go to hell.” 

Tim shoved past him and Boyd smiled. He went into Raylan’s room and closed the door. Slowly he slid from his clothes and slid into the bed. For a bit, he just watched Raylan breathe. Then he lightly stroked Raylan’s hair. 

“Boyd, what the hell are you doing?” Raylan’s voice was light and clear.

His eyes were still closed.

“I found that boy out there, watching you, wanting you.”

“Tim? You’re drunk.”

“I am, but that don’t make me wrong. He wants you, and then I got to thinking, and remembering, and I wanted you too.” He paused, touching Raylan’s collarbone.

“I told you, a long time ago, why this doesn’t work for me.”

“I don’t need it to be forever. I just want it tonight.” Boyd’s hand slid down between Raylan’s legs, feeling the hardness he knew so well. “So do you.”

Raylan turned suddenly, pulling Boyd’s head toward his, kissing him hard before pushing his head down his body. Boyd took him in smooth and fast, and while Raylan fisted Boyd’s hair and thrust up into his throat, he was suddenly back in the woods behind Aunt Helen’s, Boyd kneeling over him, sucking away while Raylan waited for that sweet release that Boyd knew how to draw from him every time.

He watched Boyd bob up and down on his cock, then suddenly pulled him up and onto his stomach on the bed. He pushed his legs open and yanked his hips up, mounting him with nothing but spit and sheer force.

Boyd let out a shuddering moan and said, “Yeah, just like that…” 

Raylan hammered him into the sheets, every thrust slamming the bed against the wall, every thrust sending Boyd closer to heaven.

When Raylan slid almost all the way out and slammed back inside, his cock spitting its juice into Boyd’s body already, Boyd felt it, and he almost whimpered from how the waves of pleasure washed over his body. His own organ was sticking to the sheets with his own juices and he shuddered as Raylan’s hand stroked him, roughly finishing him. It had always been this way, Raylan’s rough mounting of him, and his refusal to be gentle, at least til after it was done.

They lay there, panting and slowly Raylan slid from Boyd’s body. Every inch made him shiver. It was so good.

Raylan had a swig from the bottle Boyd had put on the nightstand and looked at him. “You are a glutton for punishment.”

“How so? It’s been a long time since I got ridden like that, and I loved every moment of it.”  
Boyd smiled lazily.

“Even though that’s all it is.” Raylan shook his head and got up and went out to the bathroom. 

And Boyd smiled to himself, because that was never all it was, to either of them.

 

Raylan went into the hall from the bathroom. He wanted a breath of air, so he went outside. Sitting on the step was Tim.

“Done?” Tim asked, slurring a bit. There was a mostly empty bourbon bottle beside him on the step.

“I guess you could say that.” Raylan replied, sitting and looking sideways at him, then out at the trees.

“What could you possibly see in that murderous hick?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like, Raylan?” Tim asked, looking at him. 

“It’s not like anything.”

“So you’d rather fuck him than me.” Tim asked bluntly.

“No, I’d rather never have this conversation.” Raylan said tiredly. “We messed around as kids and sometimes we reminisce. I don’t have time for anything else.”

“Looks like you’re making time.”  
“Tim, I’m drunk and it happened. It will not be a regular thing, and Boyd and I will not be picking out china.”

Tim chuckled a bit. “I’m drunk or I wouldn’t even say this. I’m jealous. Jealous of the memories you have, jealous of how much he knows you, that he gets how you work.”

“That’s a two-way street. I also know how he works. And that knowledge ensures that nothing long term would ever happen. I’d end up shooting, beating, or jailing him, on a regular basis.”

Tim took a deep breath. “I want to try.”

“We did.”

“Again.”

“Third time’s the charm?” 

There was silence. “I need you. I miss your breaths at night. I miss that crabby expression that you get when you first wake up; like you can’t believe someone had the gall to wake you. I miss you.”

Raylan looked at him, then away.

“You’re just saying this because you’re pissed I fucked Boyd.”

“I am pissed you fucked him. But I was thinking this since you left.”

Tim was the antithesis of Boyd. But there were things in both men that Raylan was attracted to. Sometimes he wished he could just combine the two men. But then they wouldn’t be Tim and Boyd.

“We can talk about it later, when we get back, and the booze has worn off.” He finally said. Tim smiled at him and they went back inside.

Boyd was back in his own room and Tim went to his. Raylan lay down, and considered that even though he hadn’t put a rod in the water, he may have caught something worth keeping in his net. Or he might have to throw both back again. ‘Cause sometimes that’s what life is. Catch and release.


End file.
